The Keys

“Sharon, I was dizzy and almost passed out driving home from the grocery today. I don’t think I should be driving.” I took a deep breath before responding. “Well, Mom, we have the initial appointment with your cardiologist next week. If you can get by without driving until we see the doctor, maybe we’ll have more answers then. Do you have enough groceries in to tide you over?”

Years ago, when Mom was a young mother, an elderly man ran his car onto a sidewalk not far from where we lived. A toddler was killed. That stuck with my mother. She had told me the story several times. She didn’t want to be that person. Ever.

This wouldn’t be easy. But I was glad Mom recognized the danger she might be to herself and others if she continued driving. For many of my peers, taking car keys away from elderly parents caused rifts.

We worked out a plan. If Mom needed anything before I got to visit her again, she would call one of her friends. She had a wide circle of friends; finding someone shouldn’t be a problem. But this was only a patch. A more permanent plan was needed. “Let’s pray on this, Mom. We’ll get it figured out.”